


Are we not the same? He and I

by TwoPointNo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Evil Charming - Freeform, Evil Charming Week (Once Upon a Time), F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoPointNo/pseuds/TwoPointNo
Summary: Queen Regina and Prince James were very well acquainted, so when he dies and is replaced by his identical brother she realizes something is amiss immediately. She can profit greatly off King George's lie but someone has to make a convincing prince out of the farm boy he used to replace his son and, who better than the woman who ocasionally let him into her bed?
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Prince Charming | David Nolan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

As queen consort to Leopold she’d come to know many a royal of the neighboring kingdoms and to learn that most of them had been forced to deal with her pest of husband for decades, and as a direct consequence of this they hated him. So, after the deeply tragic death of the King when it came to her inner dealings with Snow White, they turned a blind eye and then tried to bleed her dry of her land and gold. When that didn’t work, they scrambled to make an ally out of her.

And as allies go Midas is better than most; richer than all, much more agreeable in his old age, not too reticent of her magic considering his own, and willing to leave his kingdom to his daughter unlike many. It’s Abigail who waits for her in the council room when she appears, her guard always close by. Regina is aware his presence, more than required, is wanted by the Princess that is closer in age to her than to Snow White and has been a friend since their very first meeting; but Frederick still stands back by the door where his protocol posts him, however that day a new addition sits almost awkwardly in the chair closest to Abigail.

Abigail stands as Regina enters with her own guard and moves swiftly to embrace her – Regina! It has been much too long. You are able to come by so easily and yet you wait until these treaties are to be signed?

\- I come if I’m invited. Surely, you’re not complaining about my manners – They share an easy smile and Regina shifts her attention, lest he feels disrespected and urges his father to start a war – Prince James. – She gives him a slow smirk, for the same reason he should be bowing at the very least and yet, he doesn’t even bother standing until she acknowledges him. He’ll pay for that, simply not in the battlefield.

Abigail interlocks their arms ignoring his attempt at a proper greeting, and huffs – My future husband, if father will have his way, is here for a visit. – Regina leads them both towards the table easily, laughing at George’s unrefined way of doing things, a forced marriage, it’s been a while since they had one of those. Abigail tugs slightly – I hope you know what this means for _all_ of us. – They both turn to James to see his acknowledgement to the unspoken but he only stands there, ramrod straight, with a hand on the hilt of his sword for whatever reason.

Regina ignores him as promptly as he had her and smiles to concur with Abigail’s assessment of the situation, putting it aside in her mind as she moves to the long table. Before her a map of the land carved on the wood shows her the current position of the players of the conflict between Midas’ Kingdom and Casois, the lands of the East that currently hold hostage the entirety of the trade that comes through the sea expecting Midas’ kingdom to pay almost double the current agreed tax. There’s not a lot they can do because of that, short of going to war to overtake the crown and gain control of the ports. And Abigail is not one to shy away from a battle. As she explains how they can easily trick them into even lower taxes if they get word that Regina’s significant force is backing them Regina’s eyes sweep over the map wondering where Snow White can be holed up. She signs the treaty, there will most likely be no fight, Casois is a thin strip of land, lucky enough to cover the entire coast, they might be strong in the sea but not in any other way and she’s sure they will know yielding in taxes to avoid being conquered is the best they can do.

Abigail retires momentarily to finish up the preparations for her emissary to present their case to the crown of Casois, Frederick following close by and Regina stands with a sigh meant to be witnessed, moving towards James. He’s sat dutifully, listening and barely making a sound while they finished, surely his pride is eating away his sanity at being sidelined in a meeting between the two Kingdoms in which a woman is posed to hold more power than a man.

She reaches him after a meandering path around the table he follows with barely restrained confusion, and takes one lone fingernail to his chest, trailing the flowery pattern of his vest slowly as his breathing quickens; Regina smirks – How does Jacqueline feel about your upcoming nuptials James?

He’s almost running from her, his head as far as it will go, pressed against the high back of the chair he sits on, but his eyes cast down to where she’s fisting the fabric between her fingers to pull him closer. Regina trains her eyes on his face with the upmost intensity to draw an answer and he stutters – She’s delighted, Your Majesty.

She leans in even further, and the puffing of his agitated breath caresses her own face – I do miss her so, perhaps I can have her to myself now that you’re a man engaged. – In one move she places one of her hands on his inner thigh, too high to be proper in any occasion, and the other on his chest pushes him backwards into the chair again. She entertains the thought of kissing him senseless to taste whatever it is coursing through him at the moment, but the man flinches and gasps as soon as she makes contact with his leg, and _that_ is uncharacteristic enough she has to stop and truly search his eyes for a moment, to find him bewildered by her demeanor – Who are you? – He says nothing, and she moves the hand on his chest up to his neck, the pressure more than enough to make him lack air for his nervous panting – You are _not_ James. Who are you?

Before he can stutter out his excuse Abigail enters again, and Frederick charges forward to be stopped by a hand over his armor-covered arm. Regina steps away swiftly, her hands up playfully as she looks Abigail’s way, and the man who she certainly does not know gasping for breath and clutching at the table in front of him. Abigail takes her seat by the impostor and tilts her head to watch him curiously – Regina, if I am to lend you my toys I expect you to be gentle with them.

\- Of course, I would not dare damage anything of yours dear. – She sits again, and as they eye each other the man recovers significantly, his breathing even although not slow, like _he_ seems to be. Regina smirks, an idea quickly taking shape – This might be too brazen dear, but may I borrow him tonight? I vow to never ask again.

He speaks at last, his voice booming over theirs even when still a tad impaired, only a boor would yell in a war room with only two _royal_ women around – I will not be-

Regina interrupts his outrage - You will be quiet. – Her tone broads no discussion and the man shrinks in his seat, Abigail getting a rare glimpse of the Evil Queen that her friend is rumored to be in the neighboring kingdom. This man however has not seemed like the chauvinistic pig Abigail had the displeasure to exchange words with before this visit. The blonde princess looks between them, she supposes he was told to be in his very best behavior to avoid her vetoing their union.

Abigail shakes it off, confused by the whole situation. She knew of their romps much before she knew the man himself so it stands to reason his reputation simply is undeserved and she had judged him too harshly before. She focuses on Regina, who eyes with an odd hunger – You vow to never ask again, am I to infer it’s a courtesy you two won’t allow me in the future?

Regina shakes her head slightly with a sweet smile in her direction - After this night, consider our trysts a thing of the past.

She nods then, curtly with a dismissive hand gesture everyone involved can understand; finishing their meeting for all it’s worth. The man stands briskly to protest – Princess Abigail!

Usually Regina would stay for supper, perhaps a stroll in the gardens or a visit to Midas’ in his library, but she stands and puts a hand on not James’, her thumb digging painfully into his shoulder and she smiles at her friend again – I will return him in perfect condition tomorrow at dawn.

\- If you please. Father would loathe telling George I misplaced his son before an heir was produced.

David barely has time to panic before a cloud of purple fog swallows him and the Evil Queen and drops them somewhere else. He doubts she even took her guard with them in the rush. He tries to calm down and regulate his breathing as he ensures the solid state of the ground and the wholeness of his body and his hand searches for his sword to come up empty. The woman by his side tuts and moves away - I will be holding onto that while we have a chat. – She pours two goblets of wine and offers him one, drinking of hers even when he hasn’t taken his. He does, to placate her, but doesn’t dare drink. She hums as she circles him – I don’t wish to poison you, but I can appreciate a smart man. After all, we don’t know each other, do we? – he remains as silent as a stone statue and Regina rolls her eyes. Must they always drive her to torture? She drinks her wine and stands before him with a smile – I know James, _very_ well, as I’m sure you have surmised by now. You can start explaining or I can start maiming you until you do.

David’s inner battle between dying by her hand now or by George’s later continues for another minute. Too much is expected of him, a mere week ago he only had to tend to his farm and now he has the Evil Queen threatening to cut off body parts. He’s not so sure she won’t start down with his manhood, just to compare to James’. He swallows past the knot in his throat at the thought, she is striking, of that there’s no doubt. The same week ago he’s sure she would scoff at his mere existence but now dressed in the finery his brother left behind she had eyed him with lust before whatever madness this is had taken over. Beautiful or not, she starts getting visibly angry before him the longer he keeps quiet, surviving this now takes precedence. He starts talking when a dagger crosses the room seemingly of its own volition and she grabs it midair - Prince James is dead. I’m his brother.

That seems to please her, the smirk that grows on her face betrays no grief for who was obviously sharing her bed. David frowns as she starts circling again – A replacement. But my, what a replacement. So, George took a boy with an identical brother and passed him as his son all these years. – She starts playing with the knife between her fingers – Who are you then?

He’s been told the importance of not letting anyone know of this, but still propriety must bind her, she cannot simply kill another ruler’s heir, he guesses. – My name is David, your Majesty.

\- David – for the first time since she laid her hand on his thigh she touches him, a delicate hand moves to his jaw to guide his head this side and that, then down as she comes impossibly close. He’s forced to take in her face in detail, and her skirts press between them, her scent invades his nostrils. He takes one deep breath to tamp down the strange urges he’s feeling, both to run and to grab her and press her to him even more. After looking at his face for a moment she trails her hand down his neck slowly, moving towards his arms and then back over his chest, downwards over his abdomen and all the way to the buckle of his briefs, where she stops and takes a step back – Pity that you are such a bad liar, we would all be none the wiser. Identical. – He’s sure he’s imagining the mourning in her tone as she finally takes her hand off him - What happened to James?

\- I don’t know, Your Majesty. I’m just to marry Princess Abigail and play my part. King George will provide for my mother’s farm if I do and kill her otherwise.

The Queen _chuckles_ at his pitiful situation – Aw, a simple farmhand who loves his mother, are you? – She moves to sit on a high-backed chair by a platter of fruit left for her, and as she makes a show of eating some cheese and plays with a strawberry David takes the reprieve to look around the room, it rivals those of the castle he’s been staying in for a mere 5 days. Opulent and completely oversized for its use, nothing in there but lavish chairs and small tables, paintings upon paintings, a fireplace bigger than his privy in the farm. She must be lacking in entertainment in his reverie because she speaks again with a grape between her fingers – You are so very meek. James would rather be gagged before ever calling me Your Majesty in a setting where he isn’t absolutely obligated to. Perhaps you should start working on that.

He nods, and thinks it again to take her advice and not become mute only because a beautiful witch took him hostage – Yes, Regina. – His heart pounds on his ears as her gaze darkens, but she lets out a chuckle that sounds almost good humored and pops the fruit between her lips. It emboldens him to speak again – Will you tell… everyone?

\- Where are you from, David?

He frowns – Dorseton, - he struggles with whether to follow it with Your Majesty, or Regina, or why she would take an interest – Why?

She laughs at him completely silently, her eyes telling him he’s made a grave mistake – Old George should have put you through some lessons before releasing you to the wolves, David dear. Sit, please – she motions for him to take a chair by his side and he follows obediently – Leverage is a beautiful thing, as long as you live I have it over George, as long as your mother does we have it over you and so you will both do as told.

She stands and before she can go and leave him there he scrambles to find something to say, something to do that will give him a win. After the week he’s had, after feeling like a critter in the royalty’s boot even when touted as one of them. He stands right after her – You teach me. – The Queen raises an eyebrow his way, positively surprised and with a smirk on her perpetually amused face – You knew Prince James, you need me to remain undiscovered in all these… functions and meetings for your leverage to be maintained, this was the first thing I attended and you saw under the guise in a single hour. So, teach me to be like him.

\- And gain what for my effort? – he opens his mouth but she speaks over him – That my hand in your mother’s chest won’t gain me.

He blinks at that, is she threatening to carve his mother’s heart out of her ribcage? Like a butcher? His own heart starts pounding again as his eyes trail over the dagger she had taken to the cheese on the board and when he turns back, she’s impossibly closer again – My loyalty. – He stammers out – I have no allegiance to King George. He took my brother from my parents by force, and he’s forced me to do this now as well. I could be your pawn, but also your ally against him.

Her smirk grows slowly before him, and he notices how much smaller than him she is, in the reprieve of the fear for his life. She returns him his sword with a flourish of his hand – David – she says it with enough mirth he feels he’s being mocked again and grabs for his chin playfully – I will consider your very cunning proposal. Prove yourself useful and find out what exactly happened to James, and find Jacqueline for me. We will speak then.

\- Who is she? – He says, eyes trained on hers as she presses closer

\- A paramour of his. – is the only explanation she provides as her free hand makes quick work of pulling his shirt out of his breeches and undoing the buttons on his vest. The hand on his chin releases him, only to reach onto his hair and mess it up beyond quick fix.

He struggles to focus under the attention - And yours?

She pulls his head down then, easily with her hand behind it – Curious are you? – she moves to kiss him and he’s startled enough he very well might let her, but in the last second, when their lips are a hair-breadth’s away she roughly twists his face and lays her kiss on the corner of his mouth, and reaches up to blur the imprint she must have left – If Abigail asks this was positively depraved. If she questions you further spare no fictitious detail, your brother wouldn’t have. You will know when I want you, make no attempt to contact me before.

With that she steps away at last and he feels the loss keenly, rumpled as he is, at least he felt he was getting footing in their interaction. Now he will to go back to Abigail who is guarded around him, and to George who treats him like scum when there’s no one to bear witness… all while anxiously waiting for The Queen, or simply Regina’s? beckon. He looks up for a last look at that smirk of hers, and thinks for a single fleeting second that of all of James’ possessions and riches he would only envy him the opportunity to be touched by the Queen; but he doesn’t linger on that because she’s turned to her wine like he’s to dismiss himself and only when she’s lifted the refilled goblet, just as he is about to ask her how he will get back to Midas’ castle, she flicks her wrist quickly and a fog overtakes him and dumps him in the Princess’ chambers where she reads and her knight keeps guard by the door.


	2. Chapter 2

For a week he was slinking around that castle, chatting up the scribes, the cooks, or the girls sent to tidy his chambers, that he still could not feel as his any more than he could the clothing or the jewels he was to wear outside of them. Most of the servants were oblivious anything was amiss with him, one lad had proclaimed him much more amiable, but even with the perceivable change of attitude they were not aware the man they knew is no longer alive. David was starting to lose his mind with worry that The Queen would call on him and he would have nothing to show for himself when, as he spent time in the familiar comfort of the stables, two of the royal guard’s men passed him muttering something about lucky bastards.

So a couple of days after he gained their trust and learned the full tale, when he enters _James’_ chambers to find Regina lounging on _James’_ bed he’s yet to sleep in forgoing it for a couch on the corner _,_ David is more than excited to tell her all about how he’d befriended and ensnared the men, not only learning that James and Jacqueline both had perished in an unseemly affair with a giant but also a few secret entrances to the castle and many interesting tidbits on King George’s personal guards that might prove useful to her. She doesn’t even let him begin. Beckoning him forward with a hand as she sits up fully and tells him to keep quiet with a finger over her lips.

He does as told, and she rises and moves close to him with a smirk – James, a week without as much as a smoke signal. You’ve wounded me. – he opens his mouth but again, she’s quicker – No matter, in return indulge me with a short visit to my chambers. I’d loathe to be interrupted by father dearest.

\- I- Your majesty – her eyes become severe as she trains them on his – Regina. Of course, lead the way.

\- Never could deny me, could you?

He smiles genuinely at her small satisfied smirk – I have never found reason why.

Within a second they are in the same room they were in a week ago. And she steps away at once, going for her wine as she explains – You believe yourself able to speak freely in that castle? Everything you do, they watch. – She observes him as he mulls that over, now overcome with apprehension. When it looks completely sunk in she asks at last – Did you manage to learn what became of James?

He tells her and gets no reaction besides a low contemplative hum, and then they spend a few minutes going over everything he spoke to the others in the process of finding out. When he’s done with the tale she takes a minute to herself, but betrays nothing of what she makes of it. She’s agreed to his initial gambit he supposes, because otherwise what are the odds he would still be standing in the room after telling her? He can very well learn to act like James, and George is not slacking in his education, every day he has at least two classes, he’s being taught to read and write, history, diplomacy, etiquette… but this level of scheming and strategizing every word in a simple conversation, he’s unlikely to ever grasp it. The Queen seems to be a master of it. When she proclaims they should get started David merely stands to attention.

She teaches him how James used to speak, the expressions he most often used, the inflexions of his voice as he told his stories, stories he feeds him to repeat to her as far as she knows them, since eventually he will come in contact with people that will presume he knows them. She coaches him on how to walk, how to sit, how to stand, how to drink even. And when she takes his hand to guide it to the goblet as he would she decides his hands are too rough from his work in the farm and a small army of women come in to work on them and on his feet. But not content with the silence, she starts telling more anecdotes for him to memorize. He already feels his mind boggled from all the information that came before, too quick for him to even take some of it in, let alone remember it. Any admission of weakness won’t do, tough. Not to this woman who knows seemingly vast amounts of his brother’s life, and learned it on her spare time after ruling a kingdom.

He decides to interrupt, get himself a reprieve – Did he write you often? James. Earlier you chastised me for not writing.

Regina takes a quick look at his hands and dismisses the girls flocking around him before they get into whatever he’s trying to get into, job done enough to be left as is – No. I was merely establishing the tale. They surely know I was in Midas’ castle when you were there, and they know James and I used to meet occasionally. George will be overcome with glee at the idea of me not realizing you are not him, enough he won’t even consider he is the one being tricked. He will ask you to spy on me, and you will oblige as meekly as it comes naturally. We will feed him false information.

\- How do you know James wasn’t spying on you? – he wonders as he puts his shoes on again, not really paying attention at how his question seems to prod at her

She schools her face into a mask – He didn’t know enough to. And he wasn’t one to oblige daddy’s requests.

\- You really knew him then? – David asks her, and Regina wants to laugh at his earnest expression, is that not what they’ve been doing for hours? Going over every detail she knew of him. When she doesn’t answer the man stands and approaches – I mean, if you knew him well, how come he didn’t know enough of you to be a spy?

She freezes at his question. Now the simpleton wants to overanalyze her? He must be under the impression they are now friends or something of the like. She answers swiftly, to see if the torment ends - James was a conceited, arrogant, self-centered, spoilt brat. All he saw was himself. It did not matter to him who I was or what I did outside our trysts.

Her tone doesn’t let any room for discussion, and David chastises himself for how forward he was. Now she’s guarded again. Regina continues drinking her wine as she prompts him to walk around the tables and serve himself something, as James would, and questions what it is George has planned for him, which meetings is he to attend, how quickly do they plan on marrying him to Abigail, and many other things he doesn’t quite see the importance of. But she must, because she listens with an eerie attention even as she plays the distant bystander, and she watches his every move. He sees her eyebrows knit together by a fraction of a hair’s width when he does something his brother wouldn’t, and that she blinks almost defeatedly when he does remember a tidbit of information she fed him earlier, like she was hoping he would fail.

When she tires of scrutinizing him, he watches her lean against one of the tables with a self-satisfied smirk – Well, I suppose we can pride ourselves in a job half done. Perhaps he had a journal of sorts, I cannot recommend you seek help in any of the guards privy to the secret. - He looks almost alarmed at the small dismissal and Regina files that interesting turn of events to mull over later. Surely, he isn’t truly fond of her, a few hours are more than enough of him. 

He notices her amusement at his reticence to go and frowns - Why were you with him? – he knows it’s not because she loved him, or she would have mourned him instead of toying with a man bearing his image to gain something over his father.

\- I wasn’t. – She sneers and David stops in his tracks before she decides to lash out at him and he sees if the rumors are true - If anyone was it was Jacqueline but sadly, she will not be able to assist you. I have a kingdom to run and a princess to hunt.

His interest diverts itself fully to _that_ \- Why?

She glares at him - What do the peasants think? You would know.

For a second he keeps quiet, but he cracks under her gaze – It is said, Your Majesty, that you want to kill her because she is a threat to your rule of course…- he stops and she lets him see she knows he’s muddying the truth with a simple look, so he’s forced to continue – And you ran her off because her father loved her more and she is fairer than you.

Regina’s face cracks in half with the gleeful smile that overtakes her glare. Before she can control herself she’s chuckling even as she imagines the rabble reducing the source of strife in their relationship to vanity and envy of Snow’s insipid face. She turns to the man before her – And what do you believe, David?

It’s the first time she’s said his name this afternoon, when she would repeat it almost every sentence she spoke to him when they first met, and it washes over him like a balm after a week of being addressed with a dead man’s moniker. Only she can speak his name now, and only in her presence he can be himself, if her appraisal of his being monitored in George’s castle is right. Her eyes search his on her mirth, and he chances a tentative smile – I have not met the Princess, but I don’t see how she could be more beautiful than you are.

She’s amused enough by his previous answer she takes the last one well even, her chuckles subsiding but the maniacal grin staying on her face. She notices David’s gaze locked onto her smile for more than necessary and wonders if it’s the novelty of it or if he simply shares a few traits with his late brother, if the wandering eyes and hands simply run in the family they have been ripped from - A valiant attempt, James would have finished with a quip about my breasts as well. Bear that in mind if you attempt a similar maneuver on a handmaiden later tonight.

His eyes snap up to lock onto hers, he frowns and his anger at the dead prince trumps his need to let her know he was not attempting anything on her, he was simply being honest. He realizes too that she did not answer either of his questions, simple misdirection both times. He rephrases - Why did you allow him into your bed?

She steps forward until she can see every minute change in his expression – Why wouldn’t I have? I don’t need a husband; the people I allow in my bed can be as vile as they desire as long as I find them alluring and they perform their duty.

\- Am I… alluring? – She raises an eyebrow at him, smile coming in full bloom again and he speaks before she mocks him – Are we not the same? He and I. – Women had never reacted particularly positively to him back at home, he had nothing to offer to the ones in the village and the ones in nearby farms were far too busy hoping to be swept off that lifestyle to pay him any mind. He had worked himself ragged to maintain the farm because it was his only way to ensure a wife, and his mother wanted nothing else for him, and grandchildren for herself. That is of course until they had wrapped him in James’ old clothing and styled him as him. But unlike the maids that throw themselves at his feet brazenly Regina can want for no riches, and she didn’t hope to marry the Prince, so she must have liked something of his they might share. Why he wants to know if she does, and what it might be, he doesn’t dwell on.

She chuckles at his question at last, moving back almost dismissively - You don’t have what he had.

\- Horrible traits?

\- Poise. Assertiveness. He was a prince; he knew to take what he wanted. You… are a shepherd still. Regardless of the gold rings and perfume.

He has no answer to that. He’s not meek by any means, not in his farm or with his people. But he’s out of his depth, barely has a month of this under his belt. It angers him that she would think him less for it, and still want his help in whatever devious machination she devices against King George. Or worse, plan to manipulate him because of it. She’s reaching for him as she explains that once again, they will meet again under _her_ time table as he comes to the conclusion that if he wants to be an equal to her he has to start playing her game instead of simply letting her make all decisions in their arrangement. He’ll have to put her own lessons to the test on her. 

Once again, they suddenly change location and he takes a brief moment to recognize his chambers. He does his best to not look around and appear taken by surprise, and looks down at her, where she holds on to his arm. Her lips part, surely about to put on another performance for the invisible prying eyes she supposes are around and this time he decides he’s going to play his part wonderfully. He untangles himself from her and moves to face her, swiftly pulling her by the waist until their bodies are flush and making sure his grasp is steady. In that moment he notices everything about her, how her intake of breath pushes her chest onto his, how his hands circle her waist perfectly and his fingers tease the bindings of her corset, how instinctively she winds her hands around his arms as if already familiar with the position; and he bends down to capture her lips in a kiss.

He fears he might have gone too far for only a second because when she gets over her initial shock, and takes another breath, her hands leave his arms and she drags them up to his neck, pulling him forward and taking command of the kiss. He hoped he could have the upper hand when doing something unexpected but the way she deepens the kiss for what seems like minutes and then refuses to let his lower lip go from between her teeth lets him know he’s lost another round in their game.

He bends down to gather himself without her eyes piercing into his, taking the moment to whisper for her ears only – Simply in case they are watching the lovers part. – and kiss her temple, as she unwinds his hands from around her waist and takes a step back.

He surfaces at last with the distance between them and finds her smirking up at him, with an undecipherable look in her eyes. She speaks for any willing audience, reaching up to wipe his lips – Pity, you were all cleaned up.

He lets her thumb rest where it is, as he glances down in a moment of distraction to see her lips kiss-swollen and the smudged make up giving her a wild look all her cackling and magic had not yet managed to in his presence. He puts the last bit of distance between them, swallowing past the lump on his throat as he pulls his head out of her range of reach – I will write this time around. – Is what he can scramble together as his mind dwells on the last minute of their afternoon together

\- I won’t hold my breath. – and with that she’s gone, smirk firmly in place still. Only until she’s in the comfort of her own chambers though, completely confused by what it is the shepherd is playing at.


	3. Chapter 3

She wants George’s land, the emerald mines that run under most of it are simply too rich to pass on. She has sidelined her kingdom’s growth for her chase of Snow White, contenting herself with keeping it prosperous enough her people won’t starve, but George’s deceit falling into her lap is a sign from fate and letting it go unpunished would simply be wasteful.

But how does she procure it swiftly? She could kill George, dethrone a weak David, spare Abigail the marriage. Although effective it might be a smidge too violent on the neighboring kingdom…war, displeased peasants, belligerent royals and all manner of obstacles. Say she betrays Midas, marries David before Abigail manages to, poisons George, poisons David, it might take years to do that without arising too much suspicion and having to squash a coup, and she would be forced to marry the farm boy to get her mines, but if it works it’d be the easiest way to transition power to herself. Marriage, so pedestrian. Anyone can marry, and yet it’s the measure of worth for who will rule entire kingdoms. She would rather be judged for how she commands her troops and governs her coffers, for how she negotiates the overtaking of a land based on a bold-faced lie, but they would like her more if she simply married into it.

Another, least horrifying, plan of action feels about ready to be born somewhere in her mind but a knock on her door takes her concentration away, and she nods swiftly to the guard stationed by her door to let whoever it may be in, this can wait. A boy presents her with her missives as soon as he’s let inside and she dismisses him when she has the three letters on her table, taking a sharp opener to the envelopes as swiftly as the boy leaves and unfurling the papers on her desk as the guard entombs himself with her in the chambers.

One letter is Midas and Abigail’s perfunctory gratitude for her visit and allyship, it informs her the conflict has been resolved and as thanks a few items were being sent, paper preceding it because it doesn’t weigh horses down as gold does. She flicks it away and grabs for the second, one of her scouts sends news of Snow White’s whereabouts. She’s on her feet before she finishes reading, and grabs at the third without thought or care about wrinkling to read on her way to the stables.

Before she even glances as it she barks out instructions to her personal escort to gather the few knights she trusts and tell them to armor themselves for the journey, they leave as soon as possible, and she will ready herself without his presence. As he rushes away to deliver her orders her blood starts boiling as it usually does when the insipid little twit is within her grasp, and only her raising her hand to summon light-weight armor reminds her of the paper in her hand. On her way down the endless aisle out the castle she spots a barely scribbled James on the corner of the paper and stops on her tracks. Using some of the worst spelling she’s had the misfortune of reading, he writes a few lines of how he misses her embrace and some other nonsense, as if they’re _lovers_ , and then he has the gall to insinuate he will be coming to the castle whether or not she replies because he is to be sent on an official capacity to somewhere nearby; the “Love, James “ that ends the brief letter is the drop the breaks the camel’s back so to speak. The paper turns to ashes on her ignited hand as she pushes the hidden side door open and heads out to prepare to leave, Snow White is only half a day’s ride away and the simpleton will simply have to wait to hear back from her.

As always, it was a waste of time. She tears off the mud-streaked boots as she enters her chambers after a day of chasing air, the handmaidens tasked with helping her undress scrambling to pick up after her and to stop her from discarding the rest of her clothing by herself. Snow White had been there, but she couldn’t extract any more information of the few people surrounding the site. Her scout had moved on already to a village further into the forest to see what they could tell her there, and only because of that she escaped a verbal lashing she would tell her grandchildren about trembling and with her glazed eyes trained on the fire.

One of the girls manages to stand in her path, between herself and the door, and before she can open her mouth Regina flings her away with the same move she uses to pull her leather riding jacket away and throw it to a side. The more energy she burns on magic the less she has to maim the incompetents around her, so she blasts the double doors open with enough force they swing all the way to the wall, that stops them with a solid thud, any servants that might be inside must be wise enough to stand clear of them after years of working on her close circle.

She should have listened to the girl, she was trying to warn her it appears, because the first thing she sees inside her chambers is David, sitting around twiddling his thumbs like an idiot, or more like standing around, after the noise. It breaks her stride for a second and she stands there, in socks, shellshocked at the sheer nerve of this man to let himself into her castle, into her _rooms,_ regardless of the brief note he sent before. She allows herself only a moment of shock before she marches right inside, past him.

His face goes from mild surprise and fear to only mild confusion but he’s still wary when he speaks, good. – Hello, Regina. I apologize, I didn’t know where to wait, it seemed to me James would simply make himself comfortable in your chambers and so I told them. – his forehead bends into a frown all by itself – I now see how presumptuous it was, I didn’t expect them to comply so easily.

\- You will find that power corrupts. – Is all she gives him, from between gritted teeth as she moves towards her dresser at a brisk pace to rid herself of the garments full of sweat and grime clinging to her after her most recent failure, lest his face drives her to murder and all her plans for the mines go to the underworld with him

– I assume you got my letter - She can hear him shuffling closer still, like a dog begging to be congratulated for a new trick – George demanded I write you, it seems you were right and he was told you were upset because I had neglected to do so before. And he demanded I come as well, to warm your bed, I’m to prod you about Princess Abigail’s projected strength in her throne.

His commitment would be remarkable if he didn’t prattle about his orders without even being asked, he sounds like a child trying to impress their governess with how clever they are. Regina hums, her anger still boiling inside her and her mind elsewhere while she’s only shy of tearing her clothes off. She must have a leak, there simply isn’t any other explanation to how Snow White manages to leave before she can catch her every single time. David gets impatient while she ponders who the rat may be and his voice cuts through her reverie, needling like he’s owed an answer– Well, what do we want to accomplish? What do you suppose we do?

\- _We_? – she laughs sardonically as she rounds the screen that stands between them to watch him shrivel before her, she notices him darting his eyes away at once like he can’t bear to face her after only a few minutes of trying to act like her equal and she sneers at him – _You_ are nothing but a puppet, _we_ do not do anything, I do with you as I please. – The mound on his throat bobs up and down when she walks by him then and she chuckles as he continues to avoid her eyes - You, you were sent to whore yourself for information and my, with what lack of finesse. I am surprised George even thought to let you write, I’m sure Abigail will have someone asking about our correspondence with me and the many others, and by the gods if he wants to keep the lie intact he should know better than to make you write , an infant would have produced a better letter . – _That_ angers him, it must have taken sweat and tears to learn that much in such little time, she know this, and yet, a bit of fight looks better on him than complete meekness, it certainly did on his brother, he glares at her now and she holds her ground – You might have managed to convince a few ignorant girls you are James to be let in to sit shyly by my bed while I returned but you are nothing, David. You stumbled into something much bigger than yourself, but you’re a pawn and nothing else. _We_ do not do anything.

She means to turn but he grabs her by the throat suddenly and drags her back in place at once. When her legs threaten to buckle under her and she kicks them in place is when she remembers she was halfway through undressing before she came from behind the screen to lash out at him, the only thing left is the gritty undershirt, short enough he was forced to avert his eyes to be chivalrous. He was trying to look elsewhere then but now, he pulls her towards him and faces her head on – I am doing you a favor, Regina. As much as my mother and I live because you allow us to, so do you. George would kill you if I told him you suspected there is something amiss.

She feels a smirk growing, unbidden. Much as she hates him manhandling her like a rag doll, he’s not really making any damage and remains amusing throughout the entire ordeal. Besides, she would be dishonest to say she doesn’t get a small thrill out of the fact he _can_ manhandle her, just has to keep him in his place so he doesn’t believe he may – He wouldn’t even make it through the castle gate.

\- Apparently, I would. – he barks out with a sneer and for a flash his hand twitches on her neck

Every time they have the displeasure to meet he manages to say the right thing at the right time a least once and she gets that rush that comes with a new toy to play with. The small smirk turns into a grin at that, David being the one that lays the fatal blow would be a delicious turn – Do it, then. – she replies, moving even closer so he’ll have an easier time of throttling her to death, but his bravado was already spent on saying it and it’s turned into conflict that shows in how he looks at her face trying to gauge something from her expression. It’s left him focused on what happens above the neck and oblivious to the knife summoned to her hand, aimed at his side in case he grows the nerve.

Instead, she feels his already lax grip slack a little around her windpipe, she would laugh and prod at his lack of resolve but he seems to lose an internal battle and doesn’t quite let go, he pulls again, drawing her flush against him as he bends down and captures her lips on a kiss surprising enough the dagger clatters to the ground as her hand, unbidden, chooses to hold onto him instead. She has no opportunity to kiss back, the metallic scrape jolts him and makes him drag his lips away to glance down and realization must come immediately because he steps away at once, chest heaving and hands trembling. What lies can he spin to justify this? Last time he could tell himself it was an act for George’s hidden eyes but now, he was told to write a love letter and come to her bed and he’d wanted to. She can use that, how to use it, besides the obvious, she’s not fully aware right now, but she’s fully aware she either fucks or murders her frustration out, or she spends a very miserable week. Seems like there’s a willing participant for one option.

She presses closer, undoing his progress to get away - Do _that_ , then- He shakes his head, to clear it, useless gesture. Specially as Regina prowls around half naked, dragging the tips of her fingers over his vest

He takes a fortifying breath - You had a knife. – but still stammers

\- You had your hand around my throat. – He grumbles and she stands behind him them, from there he might as well be James. It’s only the eyes where they truly diverge. She speaks softly enough it might be his own voice trying to convince him – And don’t you want to put them back? Warm my bed and ask about your wife-to-be, be a good boy for daddy.

\- That man is not my father! – he whirls around as he speaks and barely realizes that Regina is moving back, inching towards the bed as he follows to defend his honor – I am tired of you all dismissing me and ordering me around. I am not your puppet, or his. I can end you both every bit as you can end me. – his chest heaves with every breath he takes, and his hands have balled into fists by his side, surely with the effort he’s taking to not throttle her yet again. So impulsive and hot headed, and yet he forces himself to stay kind, his reflex in anger is to kiss. Regina sits on her bed at last as she ponders whether it is on her best interest to encourage the killer in him or cater to the shepherd that loves his mother and feels lost in a world of trickery and deceit. Either way, life had provided her with a perfect copy of a man whose company in bed was very much missed, she’d be wasteful to let him go. 

He realizes he’s looming over her as she sits on the bed and tries to take a step back and calm down, but she’s faster and grabs onto the buckle holding up his breeches, pulling him closer – You are right, cooperation is beneficial to us, _we_ should do something, _we_ should do _this_.

He grabs at her forearms but doesn’t quite pull her away – I do not want you.

\- Don’t you? – she laughs – You have kissed me twice now, hardly the sign of an uninterested man. – and the bulge in front of her face begs to differ as well – You scoff at James’ riches, at his power, at his duties, all understandable, all they are is burdens. But to scoff at his conquests, you must be a bigger man after all. Any other kind would be envious of him, we are an exquisite club.

She meant to rile him up, his anger seems to always overpower his restraint, it should be the easier way to get him to stop dawdling and force his tongue in her mouth, but his grip whitens over her arms as he keeps on battling with his urges - You do not want _me_. – he exhales like a man pleading with himself.

And she pauses then, only for a brief second, hopefully he doesn’t realize. Because she does want some of him, his body, his exasperation for her that he’s so apt to turn into passion, the way he stops to gauge her approval of what he does. She needs something and if it isn’t this it’ll surely be blood, but she can’t let him know any of that or he will have leverage as well. She looks up at him and busies herself with the bindings before her, sensing he’s given up the act of reticence, he might not realize it yet but she does, it is only a matter of helping him to surrender to it – Oh I assure you, I am at the very least curious enough to want to bed _you_ right now, David. – it seems his name is the magical word.

The sun had not set before he fell into bed with her but now it’s dark outside, a servant had slinked in to light a few candles and a fire in the distant fireplace and had left without lifting her eyes once in their direction. He’d found Regina watching him watch the girl and her expression had been unreadable, as it often is. She’d turned away lazily after that, stretching like a cat by his side and casting a spell for a tome to float her way, without the slightest intention to cover herself.

After a small but undetermined amount of time of tracking his eyes over her figure and not daring to touch, even after having spent hours linked as one just before, he tries to vault over the wall she’s put between them now. – Where were you? – he wants to know what it was that had her angry enough to prod at him without the pretense of civility earlier, and surely after _this_ she’s willing to at least speak to him on that - I was told you could be days when I pushed my way in here.

She hums, doesn’t tense, doesn’t even pause her lazy reading and he envies her compusre – And was it exhilarating, to have your will be enacted regardless of law or propriety?

It was, he proclaimed he would wait in her rooms and she could see how for a moment they hesitated between certainly angering him and possibly angering The Evil Queen, and chose to not anger him. It had made his blood rush knowing he could just stay there in her space, and then it had made it run cold knowing his brother had as well then, the claim over Regina is James’ as much as everything else. But he will not bend to her need to command every interaction, not after he had her on her back and taking orders – I ask because you seemed frustrated, earlier – not anymore, but he is above asking for praise for a job well done.

He sees her eyes cease their movement, even if she pretends to be reading the book another moment. So, he gives a moment to compose her mildly deceitful answer now he knows he was correct in his assessment of her feelings and takes the chance to study her demeanor when she’s been caught. Hiding, lying, burying truth under a pile of deceit, it’s all these royals do. It might need to become all he does. She closes the book and meets his eyes – And I’m to explain myself to you now? What is it to you where I was or how I felt?

\- I believe we can be friends. – he did before he came here today, now he knows it’s this, whatever it is, or enemies. And maybe both.

She smirks - Because I put your manhood in my mouth.

He shifts on his spot, to control the stir low on his abdomen at her candor, and hopes he hides it successfully with a grumble and the sheets between them – Because we are allies against George. What is it you hope to accomplish? What are you using me for?

\- Nothing you need to concern yourself with yet. – she tosses the book from the bed between them and her eyes blaze with something he doesn’t understand yet. It makes her look wild, and striking, even more so than usual. He curses his fate that the first time he feels something like this he feels it for this woman, that will surely never be really his and does not care for him in any way. But then again, he would probably not have felt this ever, this is the only woman of her kind. She changes position and on her way her legs part for a moment and it leaves him dazed for a few seconds, he barely hears her when she speaks – You will tell George Midas confided in me he’s agreed to your arranged marriage because he feels Abigail would be vulnerable at the throne if she took it alone, and he’s given me reason to believe he might not be alive a lot longer- she waits for him to nod and continues – That is too much useful information for me to let slip, you will need to say I implied it and you’re making the conclusion. If he asks the exact words tell him I said something similar to “Midas might have a vested interest on the weeding happening soon” - When he knows he has it committed to heart he nods his assent again and watches as she maker a show of draping herself on her side some more, her hair cascading to a side and her hands having nothing else to do than to travel over her own body – When are you expected back home? – he takes a play out of her book and shrugs, withholding the information and she chuckles – Did you think of me, David, these last few weeks? Or were James’ local troupe of admirers enough to tide you over after our tumultuous first kiss? I’ll be honest and say I thought of it quite a bit.

He sees a bit of a lie in her admission, a misconstruction somewhere in there he can gleam just yet. For him, truth is he had thought of her, repeatedly and with his own hand wandering much like hers was at the moment. And that he does envy James’ conquests as well. Women at the capital are much better groomed than those in the villages, they are smooth and bathe almost daily, always wrapped in finery and smelling of fine perfume instead of sweat and manure. This spectacle before him was outside of even his imagination before but now he doubts even the sheets are helping him hide the obvious. However, the truth being evident never stopped her before from redirecting the conversation. Conceal and withhold. He knits his hands together almost painfully behind his head and tries to keep his bearings – What do you gain of George thinking Princess Abigail weak and her father frail?

\- What do you think? – she says almost as an afterthought, on the move towards him

He knows his fair skin betrays him as it always does, and he swallows and feels the tightness of the move, her eyes lock on his neck and he knows she’s aware what she is doing to him, but he holds his ground – He will be reassured he can take control of their Kingdom after we marry, so he will stay the course with that. But why do you want that?

She only grins, never answers - So clever – and her prowling forces him to sit up properly, which lets her lift herself nimbly to straddle him with ease – Pity you’ll soon be a married man.

It tells him nothing, that she intends to let him marry her friend under his false identity, and it maddens him that he’s decades behind in political maneuvering and can’t even glimpse her intentions. But much more pressing at the moment is the way the thin sheet does nothing to hide what her teasing has done to him or what her hand had done to herself. He can feel the heat and moisture even with the layer between them, and he is a mere man. His hands work without his consent then to drag her closer and kiss her if only to rid her face of the smug smirk there.


End file.
